


The Clone Wars

by nikkiRA



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/pseuds/nikkiRA
Summary: This is how he knows it isn't Shiro.





	The Clone Wars

**Author's Note:**

> i don't go here and i don't even really ship these two but the last line has been haunting me for months and begging me to write it so here we fucken are

This is how he knows it isn’t Shiro –

The man who looks like Shiro takes two spoonful’s of the gloop that is sugar but not sugar in the drink that is coffee but not coffee that Hunk makes. He digs his spoon in and lifts it out, pouring however much he happened to scoop onto the spoon into his cup.

Shiro, real Shiro, his Shiro, takes two spoonful’s, as well, but he makes the sugar even with the spoon, a level amount, eyes glued to the spoon, concentrating hard, as if it was the most important thing he could possibly be doing.

Do you see the difference? Still two spoonful’s. But it as if the man who looked like Shiro had been given an instruction booklet that read – Shiro, real Shiro, Keith’s Shiro, takes two not-sugars in his not-coffee. And on the surface that’s the end of that, and the man who looks like Shiro makes his coffee with two not-sugars, and that might be that, except two level spoons is very different from two heaping spoons.

This is how he knows it isn’t Shiro –

He always raises one eyebrow. When Keith was sixteen he tried for ages to try and raise only one eyebrow but he could never do it. Shiro had laughed at him but then made him an agreement, that from now on he would only ever raise two, so he wouldn’t rub it in. Keith thought that was stupid, and he still thinks it’s stupid, but to this day Shiro only ever raised two eyebrows.

Until, until, until. Until the man who looked like Shiro came, and maybe the instruction booklet said that Shiro, real Shiro, Keith’s Shiro could raise one eyebrow, but it didn’t mention that he _didn’t._ It didn’t mention that he walked in on Keith in front of the mirror with one hand clamped over one eye to stop that eyebrow from raising. It didn’t mention that he had laughed for what felt like hours before slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders, raising one infuriating eyebrow at him, and then telling him that he would only raise both from now on. So the man who looked like Shiro kept on raising an eyebrow at Keith, and he isn’t jealous anymore, but he knows. He knows that his Shiro kept his promises.

This is how he knows it isn’t Shiro –

He looks. Keith has always looked, and Shiro has never looked back, because Shiro always said there was a _line,_ and it was his job not to cross it. So Keith looked and Shiro looked away. And Shiro knew Keith was looking but he always pretended he didn’t, and Keith would pretend, for both of their sakes, that he wasn’t looking at all.

But oh, he was. He was, he was, he was. It was so incredibly impossible not to look at Shiro, Shiro, who shined bright in his life like the night sky’s only star. Shiro was Keith’s only connection to _anything,_ the only one who looked at Keith and saw Keith, not a sad little boy who was abandoned by his father, abandoned by his mother, not good enough, not smart enough. And maybe his attitude problem got worse once Shiro was gone, but it had always been there, and Shiro was the only one who heard what he was saying and how he was saying it and understood. Shiro had been the only person to ever understand. Keith would go through heaven and hell to save Shiro and he _has_ so he lets himself look because he loves lost causes.

But this Shiro, the man who is not Shiro, the one who looks like Shiro – Keith will be looking, because he does, and because he’s looking for cracks, looking for signs that this man in front of him is not the one he knows like the back of his hand, and Shiro will be looking back. Shiro isn’t supposed to be looking back; the only reason Keith can handle this dance they do is because there are rules to it that have always been followed. He doesn’t know how to handle this new dance, the one where Shiro looks back. Because Shiro, real Shiro, his Shiro, he never looked back.

But this one does, and Keith gets lost in the intensity of his gaze and forgets that this Shiro is breaking all the rules. Because while this Shiro looks at him, Keith doesn’t care about the rules.

This is how he knows it isn’t Shiro –

He looks, and Shiro looks back, and one night Shiro comes to his room, smiles softly at him, says his name, barely more than a whisper, and every nerve in Keith’s body is on fire, and his brain is yelling at him, _these are not the rules of the game,_ but his heart is beating so loudly he cannot hear these thoughts. And Shiro moves inside, the door closing behind him, and Keith can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Can I?” Shiro asks, and Keith realizes he’s asking for permission, even though he has to know, with every look Keith has ever given him, that Shiro has always been the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Shiro kisses him, and Keith can’t compare, because Shiro, real Shiro, his Shiro would never have done this. He knows because he’s tried, and Shiro pushed him away, hands gentle on his shoulders, soft laughter filled with a hint of self-loathing, telling him _no, Keith, I can’t._ And then Shiro had disappeared, and then he hadn’t come back. And Keith had heard those words in his head for weeks; _no, Keith, I can’t._

And now he was. He was doing the exact thing he had sworn he wouldn’t, and that’s how Keith knows that this isn’t his Shiro, but in the moment, he can’t bring himself to mind.

“I’m so tired of pretending,” Shiro says, and Keith wonders if these words mean more than he thinks. “I don’t want to push you away anymore.”

Shiro’s mouth is heavy on his, and it’s everything Keith had always thought it would be, except it’s not Shiro. But Keith kisses him back anyway.

Maybe Shiro is tired of pretending, but Keith is willing to start.

* * *

This is how he knows it isn’t Shiro –

He leaves. Shiro lets him.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @aravenlikeawritingdesk


End file.
